


The Gift of Etro

by Mayoki



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Etro's Eyes, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Regis is an awesome dad, Stressed out Noct, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3970978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayoki/pseuds/Mayoki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For whatever reason that nobody in the whole of Lucis can fathom, their patron goddess Etro gave Prince Noctis a gift. Noctis has spent every day wishing he could give it back.</p>
<p>The final straw comes when he is gifted with the vision of the death of someone close. And the clock is ticking down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gift of Etro

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little idea that came to me last night and I thought it would be faster to write it than to jot down notes and try to recreate it later. ^^

'It's a beautiful day,' the king said, as he leaned against the rail of the balcony overlooking the great lake on the palace grounds. The morning was just beginning; the mist of the night was fading, casting the distant city beyond the gates in haze. Morning dew clung to the leaves of the plants twining the balcony, and a spider's web shone as if it had been threaded with a thousand diamonds.

'It's a beautiful day,' the prince agreed, folding his arms across the balcony rail, and resting his slight weight against it. They were four floors up, and the courtyard below seemed like a dizzyingly far drop.

The king turned to his son and studied him carefully. For several days, weeks if he was honest with himself, he'd watched his son withdraw further and further away from him. From his friends, too. Noctis was simply shutting everyone out and that was never a good thing. It meant that something had happened, and that "something" was unlikely to be pleasant.

'Ignis is worried about you. He came to me last night, he said that you'd locked yourself in your room and were refusing to speak with your friends.'

Noctis gave a non-committal shrug, and stared out across the landscape.

'Gladiolus too. He told me that you weren't yourself in training. You were more reckless than usual, your defensive techniques were poor at best yet you slashed away with a sword as if you were actually trying to kill him. He apologises for breaking your arm, are you well?'

'I had a potion,' Noctis said. His arm still twinged a little, but that would fade in a few days.

'And Prompto. Even Prompto came to me. He stuttered, but he was worried enough about you that he came to my bedroom to find me. You haven't been joining them for lunch.'

'Haven't been hungry,' Noctis said softly, watching the crystal in the courtyard below. The iridescent surface seemed to shift colour as he watched, and he could feel the warm thrum of energy flowing through him from the connection.

'Noctis, this isn't a game. We know that you have a terrible burden, much more than I ever had. The crystal is bad enough, but to be gifted with the Sight by Etro herself…' The king sighed, realising that his hands had been gripping the rails tightly enough that his knuckles had gone white.

Noctis said nothing, he just watched the crystal and the guards that stood sentry beside it.

Finally the king turned to his son, and placed a slender hand on Noctis's narrow shoulder. They were so similar, yet so different. There had been a time when Noctis would come to him with any problem, would want to share his fears. But ever since the accident Noctis had clammed up and kept everything inside. 'You don't have to do this alone, Noct. You can tell me anything, you know that? And your friends. That's why you were assigned a bodyguard and an advisor, so that they could help you through this. We didn't anticipate the Gift, but that just means you need them all the more. I thought you trusted them?'

'I do,' Noctis whispered.

'Then why won't you speak to them, at least? If you won't speak to me at least speak to _someone_. What you're doing is not healthy, Noctis. You're going to make yourself ill.'

'I trust them too much,' Noctis said, blinking harshly. His eyelashes were damp, how had that happened? 'You gave me a bodyguard and an advisor and then you let me get close to them. They're my best friends, I can't drag them into my nightmares. I can't do that to them.'

'Well then who will you talk to? Would it be better if we brought in somebody impartial? I can arrange a counsellor-'

'I don't need anyone! I don't want to talk to anyone. You don't get it, there's nothing anyone can say to make this better. There's nothing you, or Ignis, or Gladio, or Prom can say or do that can change a damn thing. And you won't make me feel any better about it, either. Because you know what? Do you know what I see in these damn visions?'

'No,' the king said quietly, studying his son. 'No I don't. Because you won't tell me.'

Noctis was trembling, with rage and with fear. 'I see death. Every vision Etro gives me is of someone dying. Most of the people I see I don't know, and that makes it a bit easier. Then it's just like a nightmare, and everyone gets those. But then…then she'll give me a vision of someone I do know. I'll see someone I love being killed, and I'll see them dead, and when I wake up I know it will be true one day. Maybe tomorrow, maybe ten years from now, but it will come true. And though I'll have replayed it a hundred thousand times in my mind when it actually comes down to it there won't be a goddamned thing I can do except watch it happen for real. Do you have _any_ idea what that feels like? To know that you're going to die and that I can't save you?'

An uncomfortable silence fell between them as thick as the fog of the night. Regis could feel the air cooling, despite the warmth from the sun. Suddenly the morning wasn't so beautiful. Not when he was looking into his son's crystal blue eyes and seeing the demons that lurked within them. His son was tormented by their patron goddess, his sleep tortured by nightmares, his days spent agonising over his visions. No wonder he looked so tired, so haunted and haggard. Noctis was barely eighteen yet he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

'Well I knew that I wasn't going to live forever,' the king said softly. 'Nobody is immortal, Noctis.'

'But with you it's different,' Noctis said, his voice cracking. 'I saw your death over a month ago. And I know when it's going to happen. I saw the room, I saw the banners. I know exactly when and where you're going to die, but I can't think of a way to stop it.'

'Perhaps the vision is one of many possible outcomes-'

'He's going to kill you. At the peace treaty signing Idola is going to shoot you. You try to stop him, you have phantom swords aimed at him, but then…then you drop them. You let him shoot you.' Noctis trailed off, his head hung low and his thin body trembling as he fought back the tears. 'And you die.'

'If I'm stupid enough to drop the shield of phantom swords then I deserve death,' the king said with an attempt at a laugh. 'Noctis I'd never do that. You know that.'

'You would. Because Idola's right hand man is holding me hostage with a gun at my head. So you drop the sword shield and you let Idola kill you, to save me.'

Whatever the king was going to say died on his lips. There was no hesitation in his mind; of course he would sacrifice his own life for Noctis's. Noctis was the only family he had, Noctis was his everything. He swallowed hard and reached out a hand to cup under Noctis's chin, gently tilting his son's face up to look at him. The young man's eyes were damp, and there were trails down his cheeks that shone golden in the morning light.

'The answer is simple; you won't be at the treaty signing. We'll say you're sick. We'll keep you away from Idola's clutches. You'll sit tight in your bedroom, with Gladiolus and Cor protecting you, and you won't come out until every last Niflheim citizen is clear of the palace.'

Noctis bit his lip. 'What if it's not enough? What if-'

'Noct? There will be approximately fifty people in the Niflheim entourage, and at least fifteen of them will be stuffy old men like me who are only here to sign a piece of paper. Our palace is armed to the teeth and will have extra security for the event. There's no way they'll be able to get to you.'

Noctis frowned, still unconvinced.

The king laughed, and moved his hand to cup his son's cheek, gently brushing dry the tear trail with the pad of his thumb. 'Noct, they're hardly going to bring an army. We'll be fine. And you'll see that not all of Etro's visions have to come true.'

'Okay,' Noctis said. But he knew that he wouldn't be happy until the treaty was signed and Idola was back in his cesspit of a garrison state where he belonged. 'I hope you're right.'

'Of course I'm right. I'm the king,' Regis said with a smile. 'And if my death doesn't come true you don't have to worry about anyone else's. This may not be the curse you think it is, Noctis, if we can use your visions to prevent these things from happening. You might very well have the power to save us from the deaths you see.'

'I really hope so,' Noctis said, picturing the deaths he had seen for his friends. Those he wouldn't be able to prevent. He couldn't save his friends from their fates, because he had already seen his own and knew that though his friend's lives were brief his own was cut short even sooner. The thought made him sad every single time he sat with them, and joked with them. That soon they would be mourning him, that the kingdom of Lucis may be without a king and an heir. He really, really hoped his father was right and that the visions could be changed. Why else would Etro give them to him? What else was he supposed to do with them?

'Now come on. You look like you could use a strong cup of Ebony coffee. And then you're going to apologise to your friends for worrying them, alright?'

'Alright,' Noctis said, allowing himself to be led from the balcony.

It really was a beautiful day. But as ever, the darkness of the Gift poisoned his vision.


End file.
